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Blackblade 14.2 - Down from the Mountains
It was the middle of the night; Caelan was standing dispassionately, watching for danger in theory if not in spirit. Ridley was sitting a bit apart, which had been usual as of late, and Shirley was guarding the perimeter, increasing her vigilance to make up for the lack provided by the others. Yomiel approached the elf with no reservation; whether he couldn’t recognize the hallmarks of a bad mood or couldn’t care was not clear. He stood there for a moment, silent and blank faced, until Ridley acknowledged him with a raised eyebrow and a “What?” The Leshrved wasted no time. “Did you hear the devil when we were in the spirit realm?” Ridley, who at first looked as though he would dismiss Yomiel at the first opportunity, appeared intrigued by this question. He turned himself around to face him, making eye contact and replying with the same formal seriousness that Yomiel gave. “In the spirit realm…with the bogeyman? You think we went to a different plane.” “No. I know,” he replied bluntly. His expression was expectant. Ridley had a look of mild derision, but Yomiel was unfazed. “I did hear something. Something that wasn’t the fey.” He half-rolled his eyes and added, under his breath with an air of sarcasm, “I don’t think we achieved planar travel...” “It’s the simplest explanation. Theorize what you will.” Ridley looked at him dryly, but Yomiel lacked any sort of confrontational air. It wasn’t an argument, despite what Ridley would like; it was a statement of fact. Ridley sighed, “So, you think that…” he waved his hand about, looking for a word, “thing that yelled, was a devil?” “It was the language of hell, yes.” “So that makes you think it was a devil?” Yomiel exhaled forcefully. This conversation was more taxing than he had originally anticipated. “So what if it was? No one saw it, it didn’t bother any of us.” Ridley had grown flippant. Yomiel made a conceding expression, but said nothing. “So why do you care? What do you want?” The Leshrved finally made a derisive look of his own, “Insight.” Ridley turned away, “I don’t have any of that.” Yomiel, face blank as always, began to walk away. The elf sighed and asked after him, “So I take it that devils don’t just commonly hang around the spirit plane?” He paused, but didn’t turn, “No.” “So it’s too much to assume a coincidence?” “Yes.” “…You think it’s one of the devils after Vol?” “Maybe. Doesn’t make any sense either.” Ridley looked confused. “Why?” “Can’t scry. On another plane. How’d they know? If it was, why not again?” Ridley mentally picked apart the truncated response for its meaning. “So what do you think it was then?” Yomiel merely shrugged. The two were silent for a moment. “…I’ll inform you if I learn something relevant,” Ridley finally conceded. Yomiel bowed his head curtly, though he still faced the opposite direction, and walked a way. ---- "So, I talked to Charlotte. It took some convincing, but she agreed to let us go with her to Nagaoka. I figure it's the merchant city, so there's bound to be information there." Jack said this to Ridley without any particular introduction. The two generally meandered somewhat behind the others, as they were now, keeping their own pace without falling too far behind. They had always remained close since the march over the mountains begain, but the last few days had seen them rather distant from everyone, particularly each other. Ridley snorted, "I'm sure that was an interesting conversation. What did you promise to pay her, your soul? Oh wait," he added the last bit on with a heavy air of sarcasm. Jack inhaled deeply, ignoring the elf's tone. "I had to prove that I'm not half as 'incompetant' as a merchant than as a woodsman." Ridley made an "ahh" noise, but said nothing. He had yet to actually look towards Jack, but rather kept his gaze forward as they picked through the bush. "So, we'll split from the Yetoman when we get to...Saitama? Whatever the closest city was called." "Oh, well, that's where you're incorrect," Ridley said, his voice still tinged with bitterness and sarcasm. Jack blinked a few times. Ridley did not say anything, but kept walking. "...So...you're going to be like that," he said. Ridley shrugged carelessly, "Surely I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just staying with the person presenting the greater profit ratio. The payoff from working for Lord Raito is bound to be significantly more than hanging around Shirley." He carried on, his tone superficially light. "And really, I might as well make the most of the time I'm hanging around the country. No sense in wasting opportunity!" Jack was quiet. "So whenever you've decided you're finished in Yeto, call me up and I'll take us back. I wouldn't want you to think I was abandoning you. Or call if you need me to do something, like usual. I'll do my best." Jack said nothing throughout this, though his expression became tighter. The small bird who rested on his shoulder chirped anxiously and hopped from side to side, looking at his face. Ridley wasn't finished, "Have you come any closer to forming a plan, or is it still 'sit on your hands acting sanctimonious until one murderer kills another and you take credit', with the backup plan of 'I guess Ridley will do something if everything else fails'?" A look of hurt anger flashed across Jack's face. "Ooh, that one hit a little too close, didn't it?" Ridley mocked. His next comment did not attempt to hide its venom, "You sit with your head in the clouds, your heart in the past and your hands tied up with guilt, wishing and wishing for things that could be, if you could get over yourself long enough to actually do something." He gave a bitter chuckle, "You sing a pretty song and leave all of your problems behind. No wonder you like birds so much." Ridley increased his pace, just enough to put some distance between them. Jack didn't try to catch up. ---- It was early morning and the party was engaged in breaking camp, preparing to move on again. The sun had barely crested the horizon and the misty drizzle that had begun the evening before had increased to a light rain. Still high in the foothills, it was only a few days since the incident with the fey in the fog and the mood remained one of urgency; most everyone was interested in getting out of the mountains and back to civilization as quickly as possible. A shrill squeal pierced the still morning air, sending birds scattering from the nearby trees. Kirsikka dodged out of Caelan's reach, kicking up a spray of mud and stones as she tore across the clearing where they had made their camp and narrowly avoiding a collision with Ragoom. She skidded to a stop and turned to watch warily as the northman calmly made his way towards her again...too calmly. Something was terribly wrong with him, had been wrong for days. She had felt a shift in him, it was as if he was no longer there, and it frightened her. She pinned her ears flat and snapped her tail in warning as he drew closer, letting out another frustrated squeal and striking out with her forefoot when he failed to respond. Kirsikka's attitude had been worsening for days, ever since the morning they had woken up in the faerie ring, but it wasn't until they encountered the creature in the fog that she'd began to show outright aggression. On some level, Caelan knew he ought to be concerned with this; he knew full well what this mare was capable of, and how fragile their bond was...but he just...wasn't. None of the normal bubblings of caution and unease that should have been there were present as he continued to advance on her. She continued to snort and fuss as he came closer, telling him to back off and get out of her space. But it was time for them to go, and that simply was not an option. He extended his hand, reaching for her bridle, "Easy mare...settle down..." His words were right, but the tone was all wrong; there was nothing soothing about the monotone in which he spoke. This seemed to exhaust the mare's patience. With speed to rival a lightening strike, she spun and threw a fierce buck, kicking out with both hooves. Her aim was true, and it was only a reflexive dodge, the product of a lifetime around horses, that prevented Kirsikka from hitting her mark. Her iron-clad assault met with only air. Caelan watched impassively as she galloped off across the camp again, following her with his gaze as she came to a stop next to Morgan and snorted in his direction. After a few moments he reached up to touch his cheek, looking blankly at the mud that came away on his fingers. "Vol," despite the volume of his voice, his tone remained flat, "come here." He waited for the elf to join him before continuing. "I need you to go get my horse, and get her ready to go." Vol had come up to Caelan with some trepidation. The northman's odd behaviour had been blatantly apparent for days, and it was weirding out the young elf. Either he sat apathetically, doing nothing, or he was remotely carrying out tasks he knew he had to do, or talking at length with no feeling about whatever he seemed to be thinking about at the moment: a far cry from the passionate, interested man who Vol knew him as. When he was told to fetch the willful mare, he blanched. "Uhm...uhh," he stuttered, obviously nervous. He was hesitant around the large animal to begin with, and was only really comfortable working with her when Caelan was close by. Having just watched her struggle and miss decapitating him by a hair's breadth did not increase his confidence any. "I...don't think I can, I mean, she doesn't look like she wants to..." Caelan slowly pulled his gaze away from his horse and looked at the boy for a moment, "Someone has to go get her, I clearly can't. She'll kill me if I try. We can't just leave her and the gear up here," he continued as he looked back to the mare."You'll be fine, you know what to do." "I, um, guess so," Vol fiddled with his hands. He was in no particular hurry to have his head kicked off by an angry horse, but he also knew that Caelan was right, they couldn't leave her. He walked slowly towards Kirsikka, obviously nervous and unsure of himself. The mare's ears flicked back and forth as she warily eyed Vol's approach, and she sidestepped a bit when he got close enough to touch her. She begrudgingly allowed him to take hold of her reins, the motion earning him a haughty toss of her head. "Ok...it's ok..." he mumbled, partly to her and partly to himself. He began to try to get her prepared to leave, though every time she twitched, he jumped in kind, worried that she might direct her violent mood towards him. Her focus shifting between keeping a wary eye on Caelan and nibbling at the sparse grass near her feet, Kirsikka tolerated Vol's uncertain grooming and tacking efforts fairly well. As he reached under her belly to do up the girth-strap his luck ran out and her head swung around at him, pinned ears and bared teeth conveying her intent. "Gah!" Vol fell back and crabwalked away a few feet. He sat in the dirt, utterly unsure of himself: he knew that Kirsikka was in no mood to be trifled with, but he knew that he couldn't leave his job unfinished. Ridley let out a sigh. He had been watching with mild interest since the first time the horse had careened through the camp. He had finished packing some time ago, since throwing a folding chair into a colour-coded extradimensional backpack didn't exactly take much time, and had been waiting somewhat impatiently for everyone else to get a move on. He watched as the horse dodged and screamed and ran, and watched as Caelan moved like a zombie towards her, frightening her further. He saw her aim for his head, and, when she missed, watched as he calmly sent the kid in to do his work for him. The northman had been acting oddly for days now, but Ridley hadn't really been paying it much mind, absorbed as he was in his own thoughts. However, this, both the horse's and rider's behaviour, was a little more than worrisome. As he saw Vol nervously try to adjust her tack, finally leaping back as she snapped at him, he decided he should probably intervene. "Oh, come now," he called over to the mare as he walked over. Vol looked over his shoulder towards the other elf. "Leave him be, he's not the one who's got you all stressed," he continued to talk conversationally to her as he approached. His stride was easy and his voice was calm; he had no fear, and honestly figured that if the northman could dodge a kick, he certainly could as well. Approaching her face, he continued talking in a soothing tone, "Yes, it's the guy with the clashing outfit that's got you all upset, isn't it? You shouldn't take out your feelings on everyone else, that's not fair, is it? Vol here just wants to get you all dressed up so we can finally get out of this stupid place and get back to a country with women and rooves and beds and decent food. Or in your case, stables and level ground? I don't know your preferences very well," he glanced over to look at Vol and added, "but I do know that Vol here had better come and finish what he was doing, because I certainly have no idea and it would be a shame if you had to spend the day upset and uncomfortable." Vol, realizing what Ridley was doing, nodded and went back to work with greater speed and certainty. With a snort Kirsikka turned towards the now familiar sound of Ridley's voice, giving him her customary nudge when he came close enough. Ever so slowly her ears came forward and she relaxed as he stood talking to her, ignoring Vol entirely as he finished with her tack and moved on to checking the drake eggs. Eventually she heaved a mighty sigh and moved slightly to rest her head against Ridley, grateful for his calm presence and normal behavior. "Aww, there there," he stroked her cheek as she rested on him. "Life's rough, isn't it?" He pulled an apple out of his bag, having earlier created and stored a number of them for ease, and fed it to her. "You finished here?" He asked Vol, who nodded. "Alright, now you stop giving Vol here a hard time, ok? He's just trying to help." He patted Kirsikka's neck and turned back towards the camp. "Hey, thanks for that," Vol caught him as he left. "No problem. Just remember that when you're nervous, you make everyone else nervous. Guess that goes for animals too. When you're talking to someone, or doing anything really, don't let anyone think you don't know what you're doing, even if you have no bloody clue." Ridley said. "It might take a bit of practice, but it makes everyone else calm, which will make you more calm too, and that makes everything easier." Vol considered that and nodded, then returned to Kirsikka. With that resolved, Ridley sauntered over towards Caelan. He approached the northman with a quizzical sort of look. "So..." he started without any sort of introduction, "what's all this about then?" His hands gestured around, encompassing Kirsikka, Vol and the northman himself. Caelan had been sitting and watching the proceedings with an air of vague disinterest. He slowly pulled his gaze from Vol and Kirsikka when Ridley spoke and regarded the elf blankly for a long moment. "...She's upset...Looks like I've lost her trust, somehow. I'd imagine it has something to do with the other day, with the creature and the fog...but she was acting oddly before that. I don't know. But I can't work with her up here right now. The ground is too uneven; Shirley is setting a heavy pace. It just can't be done." After a moment, he added. "It's not a big deal." The quizzical look on Ridley's deepened. "Your horse, which we both agreed was a well-trained, amicable animal, just tried to kill you." He made pointed hand gestures as he spoke. "I know basically nothing about animals, but even I can tell that she is obviously afraid of you. Just you. And that's...not a big deal?" He crossed his arms and said in a pointed voice, "Maybe it has something to do with how you've been acting about as personable as a golem?" He gave a half-shrug, "I know I haven't been paying particular attention over the last few days, but really, you've been weird even for that." He folded his arms again, "So what's got you acting like your dog just died?" He regarded the elf in silence for a long while after he finished speaking, his eyebrows knitting slightly as he gave deep thought Ridley's words. "...I...don't know...?" he paused before continuing "...you are right though...this...is not right...something is wrong, isnt it?" His gaze became distant as he drifted into thought again. "Focus. Hey. Focus." Ridley snapped his fingers a few times in front of Caelan's face. "Yes, something is wrong. That's highly apparent at this point. Do you know what's wrong?" The snapped fingers brought the northman's attention back to the conversation at hand, "Uhh...no. Not really. Nothing feels wrong...but I agree, it is...huh." He thought on this for a moment later before shrugging noncommittally. "Oh for the love of..." Ridley rubbed his eyes. "Ok." He took a breath. "You're either the best actor in the world, or a wretched one. Let's assume that you're the latter, because I swear on your grave that if you're screwing with me right now you are very much going to regret it. I am entirely not in the mood. So, since you're a terrible actor, there is something very wrong, because you can't. seem. to FOCUS!" He snapped the final words out, harshly emphasizing the last one with a sharp clap of his hands in Caelan's face again, as he had once again began to drift off. As the elf noted the northman's reaction, or lack thereof, his mounting frustration receded as quickly as it came. With a look of deeply questioning concern, he brought his face very close to Caelan's, almost touching his nose with his. When this did not produce anywhere near the sort of response he assumed it would, he quickly swished around behind him, wrapped his arms around his neck and leaned over, hugging him from behind with his cheek against the northman's neck. Contrary to the very intimate position, Ridley still looked thoughtful and serious. "Now that's very odd..." he said. "You're not physically responding at all, and considering I could nearly make your heart stop by blinking at you funny a few weeks ago..." He pulled away and moved back in front of Caelan again. He squinted and brought his hand to his chin as he questioned, more to himself than the other man, "Now what caused this...?" Throughout all of this Caelan sat silently, alternately watching Ridley impassively and staring off across the camp. He began to disinterestedly pick at some dirt under his fingernails, looking up when the elf moved back in front of him and spoke, his only response another shrug. "Well, it could be some sort of mental collapse..." he mused, having given up on Caelan being much, if any, help. "But I don't think those come on this quickly. I've seen drugs that do this but not for this...OY!" He called out and gave a short whistle. "Kid!" He waved to Vol, gesturing to come over. The boy jogged up to them. "Yeah? What is it?" Ridley was still looking Caelan over judgmentally. "So, how long has he been acting like this?" he gestured his hands up and down. Vol's expression took on a concerned look. "You mean that he's..." "Been acting like one of the construction golems, yes." Ridley cut him off. "Did this start suddenly, or..." Vol nodded, "Yeah, he's..." he trailed off a bit and looked towards Caelan, concerned about using the third person right in front of him, but Caelan's eyes had misted over again. Vol frowned with sadness and concern, "He's been acting oddly for about...about seven, eight...days...now." Vol had been trying to learn to keep track of time, an odd skill for someone who had never really considered time before. Ridley considered this information. "And yeah, it started really suddenly. Right after..." "Right after we came back from the faeries." Ridley cut him off and finished his sentence. Vol looked up at Ridley, "...Yeah..." Ridley rubbed his eyes again. "You dumb twat..." he muttered under his breath. "Ok. What did you tell them?" He asked Caelan, snapping his fingers a few times to draw his attention back from the vast, flat ocean it seemed to be adrift in. "...mmmh? Tell who?" he pondered for a moment when the elf reiterated the last bit of the conversation, "Oh...uuh...it's hazy." He fell silent, and after some thought a certain clarity came to his eyes. "Feeling. I told them I didn't want to feel anymore. Is that...oh..." Ridley blinked a few times, then brought his palm to his face. Vol looked at Caelan anxiously. Ridley turned and put his hand on Vol's shoulder. "Now, this here is a very important lesson. Don't ever, ever, tell strange voices what you want. Ever. Don't tell them anything. Ever. I'm not saying don't trust people, but for the love of every mother in your entire line, do not talk about important things to people you don't trust. Because this," he turned his attention back to Caelan, "is going to be a right bitch to fix." "You're going to help him?" Vol asked, his surprise poorly masked. "How?" "Hell if I know. But we can't very well leave him like this. He's brought probably one of the worst curses imaginable on himself, and he doesn't even realize it. I may be a deplorable, self-centered asshole, but I'm not going to just leave a guy like this." He added under his breath, "And it could be argued that it's my fault, so there's that..." "What?" "I don't know much about fey or their curses...I don't know anything about fey or their curses," he spoke up, not addressing his own comment. "I don't think Ms. Grey does either. Breaking them, at least. I believe she is more in the habit of delivering her charges and letting them deal with their own problems, if her sidelong comments are to be believed. So we'll have to find someone who does." Vol thought for a moment. "Lord Kamun has mentioned a bit about the religion in Yeto, but I don't think they really believe in spirits." The thought of being able to do something, and the resulting task for his mind seemed to ease his anxiety somewhat. "It's not magic. I've looked for signs of it for days, but I haven't been able to find anything." "So there's no one in Rio who could do much of anything," Ridley surmised. "We need someone who knows about the planes." His eyes darted to the side for a moment. "I believe I know someone who might know something. They won't know the whole answer, but they might know enough to get us on the right path." "Who?" "Don't ask about contacts, it's not polite." "Oh. Sorry." "That's fine." Vol thought some more, "I'll see if Lord Kamun knows anything else. I doubt it though." He frowned a bit, "He's a bit weird too. It's like he can't remember things clearly." Ridley raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing. Vol continued, "He'll tell me something about Yeto, and it's like, he won't remember it later. The fact itself, not that he was talking to me. It's like he can't remember people he's met or places he's been half the time. He hides it pretty well though." "Odd indeed..." Ridley commented. "But not particularly the problem at hand." "Yeah." They both looked at Caelan for a minute. The northman didn't return their gaze, a look of intense focus colouring his features as he considered the implications of their conversation. "Yeeeah," Ridely drew out his word. "We'll figure something out." He turned to Vol, "Make sure he doesn't...wander off or get left behind or something." Vol nodded his head. Ridley set to leave; he patted Caelan's shoulder, "I suppose it doesn't seem particularly important right now, but we'll get you fixed right again." He rolled his eyes a little, "Somehow." With that, he walked off to see if the others were finally ready. The northman nodded silently, and after a moment added, "...thank you." before turning to Vol and dictating another set of directions concerning Kirsikka to the boy. A short time later a shout from Shirley informed them that it was past time for them to be moving on, and he roused himself to join the others in continuing down the mountain, his mind considerably more full than it had been for many days. Category:Banishment of the Blackblades